Peaches
by call me a madness
Summary: It happened in a dark, cold December night as Anastasia and Apollo met for the first time and slept with each eather, but without knowing who the other one actually was. One month goes by that night. After one month they meet again. This time as Anastasia Jackson, daughter of Poseidon, and Phoebus Apollo, sun god and her new protector. Apollo/Fem!Percy. OOC, Lemons. [Re-Upload]


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians or Heroes of Olympus. It all belongs to the beautiful mind of Rick Riordan. However, the storyline is mine, and I do not wish someone stealing it.

**Story Title: **Peaches

**Summary: **"_Peaches,_" he whispered to himself as the visions appeared behind his closed eyelids. _Dark wavy hair that smelled of peaches, warm and fresh under his nose, in his face, all around him. _|| It happened in a dark, cold December night as Anastasia and Apollo met for the first time and, surrounded by hot tension und flying sparks, slept with each eather, but without knowing who the other one actually is. One moth goes by that night. After one month they meet again. This time as Anastasia Jackson, daughter of Poseidon, and Phoebus Apollo, sun god and her new protector.

**Rated:** M, for language, violence, dark themes, and explicit lemons.

**AN: ****1) **I think Apollo has a tragically lovelife, and with this story I want to change that. He's one of my favorite gods and deservesa happy end.

2) Don't get me wrong, I like Percy, I think he's pretty badass. But it has its charm letting Anastasia slip in his role. Besides, there are almost no female heroes in the mythology!

3) I'm not English. I'm German, and I'm sorry if there are some grammar mistakes in this story.

4) By the way, you can see some pictures for the story on my profile.

5) There's one change: Apollo und Anastasia have never met before!

6) Haterz, move to the left. If you have nothing constructive to say and just want to flame me personally, then say nothing at all and flounce (quietly). Instead, save that energy for for your other favorite pastimes ... such as treading on puppies, stealing candy from children, and denouncing Santa, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. In otherwords, I don't need my spirit crushed, thanks.

So, merci for your attention and enjoy the first chapter!

* * *

**Prologue: The look into the eyes**

**At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us. **- Albert Schweitzer

[Hans Zimmer - Time]

**W**ith a silent sigh on her lips, she wiped off the snow of the bench and sat on it. She buried her hands that were covered with black leather gloves deep into the pockets of her dark blue winter jacket and lowered her head, causing dark strands of her hair to fall into her beautiful face. Anastasia Jackson sighed softly, stroking her hair out of her eyes. It was the twenty-fourth December - Christmas Eve. The smell of Christmas cookies and Candy Canes hung heavily in the air, though the Central Park seemed deserted which wasn't very surprising if one would pay attention to the fact that almost any New Yorker was spending Christmas Eve with this family. And not in Central Park.

Heavily exhaling, Anastasia put her head back and stared into the gloomy night sky that was adorned with thousands and thousands of stars and the full moon that was dipping the surroundings into a ghostly light. The snow was glistening like silver in this dim light as though it would consist of countless diamonds. It wasn't a common sight but one that was worth the camera. In the distance, she heard New York City; the city seemed to pump like a giant, living organism, simply infecting everyone with its rushing, exciting atmosphere. It was just impossible to resist the charm of New York when you had felt it firsthand. Anastasia saw the outlines of the skyscrapers that towered majestically into the sky, but none stood out as clearly as the Empire State Building.

A faint smile formed on her lips.

Only four months had passed since the end of the war against Gaea and the Giants. Four months where they had had time to digest all events. Anastasia was one of the people who hadn't processed the cruel events yet. The battle had left its mark on her, she'd fucking seen people die of who she had many counted to her good friends. She didn't know when or if, but she wanted nothing more than to forget all the things she had seen with her own eyes.

"Oh man," Anastasia muttered almost unaudibly, rubbing tiredly her palms across her face. A cool wind blew over her, the few strands that had come loose from her messy hair knot whipped into her face. Technically, it was what she needed - fresh air that helped her to organize her inner chaos, bringing back structure in her confused thoughts. She had distanced herself from her friends, from the other campers, because she simply couldn't enjoy Christmas Eve with her friends. The smell of the cinnamon, of the cookies, all that was freaking her out. How could she enjoy it when she was too distracted by her inner demons? That just didn't seem fair to the others.

Anastasia had thought the break would do her well but this wasn't so. The silence, the darkness around her, calmed her down, but she could still feel her desperation and fear pushing against the surface again. In helplessness, she stared at her long, slim trembling fingers. She clenched her hands into fists, not knowing what to do with herself. Somewhere out there was her mother, spending quietly and comforting the evening with her boyfriend without knowing what her daughter was going through. But that was all the better. Anastasia didn't want her mother to find out anything about her problems and worries.

It just was ... she just felt so _lonely. _Of course, she knew that she could talk with her friends about it at any time, but Anastasia didn't want to burden them with her thoughts. They had experienced terrible things too, and she didn't want her friends to be worried about her. Anastasia exhaled in frustration, and buried her face into her palms. The world around her shattered, and she couldn't do a thing about it.

* * *

In frustration, Apollo took his first sip of the vodka bottle he had just opened, staring out of the panoramic window of his penthouse with a frown on his handsome face. It was right in the heart of Manhattan; and there were days when Apollo cursed it to live in this center. Today was one of those days. He loved New York City, he truly did, just not at this moment. Today was a day not even Manhattan could improve his mood. Apollo smiled wryly, lifting the bottle again and taking a gulp. The clear liquid left a warm tingling sensation in his chest, nothing he wasn't already used to. He had ordered Helios quite harshly to take care of the sun chariot for the next few weeks, because fuck's sake, he needed a break from all the responsibilities that weighed on his shoulders.

It wasn't as though Apollo wouldn't love his domains, because he did; it was more the fault of his fucked up family that once again got on his nerves. Since the won war against Gaea and the Giants everyone had needed some time to calm down. Yes, they had triumphed but at what price? A dull pain raced through his chest as Apollo thought of all his demi-god children who died in the battle. Despite the fact that their mothers had actually been only trivial one-night stands, Apollo loved his children. All of them. And it was killing him from the inside that he couldn't answer them whenever they prayed to him and asked for help or advice.

"Here's to you," he murmured to himself, raising his bottle and taking a huge gulp. Restlessly, he ran his free hand through the golden chaos on his head, checking the time with a quick glance of his. It was only 9pm, and to think about sleep was impossible. He had fled to his penthouse to escape his immortal family, but these four walls were even driving him more mad. Apollo had to get out of here, somewhere where he could drown his sorrow and grief in his heart into the alcohol. Quickly, he put on his black leather jacket and teleported, without sparing a second thought about it, out of his apartment.

Not even one second later, he appeared in the deserted Central Park. He did know to appreciate beauty, and the view presenting him was breathtaking. The lonely Park was being immersed in white, snow covering the gnarled branches and twigs. Everything was sparkling like thousands and thousands of diamonds. Apollo leaned against a tree with his back, raising the bottle again and tipping it. The cool wind felt comfortable and good against his skin. Just as he was about to close his eyes, he heard a muffled noise that sounded like ... like a soft, desperate sob. And then Apollo noticed that the park wasn't as lonely and empty as he had thought first.

Someone was sitting on a bench not far away from him, from behind he could only recognize a small back from that he concluded that it was a female person.

At first, Apollo thought about simply teleporting out of the park, because he absolutely had no idea how to deal with crying women. But he couldn't, something was forcing him to remain at exactly the same spot he has standing at. His legs moved automatically towards the woman. She was young - damn young -, probably not older than eighteen or nineteen years. He couldn't see her face, because she had it hidden in her palms, but as he sat down beside her he noticed how she perceived his presence and froze.

Anastasia lifted slowly her head as she felt another person next to her. Her breath formed small gray clouds in the air as she stared at the young man who was looking back straight into her eyes. She had no words to describe what happened then. It was one of those experiences that could fill a whole library or be described in one word. It was dying and resurrecting; it was all and nothing; and it was everything in a microsecond of time. She felt like she had lost and found herself a thousand times in a second, making her confused as to why that happened.

"Hello," he said softly in a velvety voice. It was the voice of a singer. Deep and dark, so erotic that Anastasia was sure that timbre could drench each and every one pantie. Unfortunately, even hers.

"Hello," she replied in a similarly lowered volume. They stared at each other, a tense silence hanging between them as they did. Anastasia's lips were slightly agape, she didn't really have a clue how she should act. Should she go, or should she stay? As she saw the vodka bottle in his hand, her eyes widened slightly. She had never expected that there would be someone who also sought his rest on this day in Central Park.

"How's life?" he asked casually, raising an eyebrow.

Anastasia met his gaze. "Fine." _Not._

He raised inwardly an eyebrow in skepticism, because he didn't buy it at all. _But if she says so ... _Apollo lifted the bottle, taking a big gulp. Anastasia gave him a thoughtful look whereupon he held the bottle towards her. "Do you want something too?"

"I'm, uh ... I'm not out of age yet," she murmured softly, not removing her gaze from him just once. She felt attracted to him in a strange way. Something about him touched her; maybe it were his hard edges, maybe it was the bitter line around his mouth.

Apollo snorted lightly before shrugging and taking a gulp by himself. With the bottle in his hand, he let himself fall backwards, leaning against the bench with his back, watching Anastasia who was eyeing him in suspicion. "Why are you here and not with your family?"

She looked at him silently. There was at least a three feet distance between them, and the air around them crackled with tension. Apollo looked at her from the side, suppressing a smile as he noticed how she was nervously kneading her hands. Seemingly, it made her uncomfortable to be alone with him, especially when he apparently got drunk. As a male god, especially as one who had had more lovers than any other of his family in the recent centuries, he couldn't help but notice that she was undeniably beautiful. From her heart-shaped face and delicate features, to her milky-white, creamy skin and long, thick, dark curls that were now pulled back into a loose knot at the nape of her pale, slender neck.

Before he could get any ideas, he averted his eyes from the dark-haired beauty and exhaled deeply. But it was too late; pictures, x-rated pictures, streamed through his mind, and in each of them Anastasia was playing the main role with him. Apollo couldn't help it, he hadn't had female company for at least two weeks. He was just a man, a godly one to that, and next to him there was a woman who unconsciously oozed sexiness and sensuality.

"Why aren't you?" she answered with a question. For a moment they just looked at each other in complete silence. And Apollo noticed that she had mesmerizing eyes. She probably had the coldest eyes of the world. Cold in terms of the shade, not because of the expression within them. This oceanic blue that was interspersed with silvery ice, reminding him of the wintry sky just before the first snow fell. Her lashes were long and dark, hemming these mesmerizing eyes, and as she blinked, her lashes tangled into each other, simply because they were so very long.

Anastasia broke the eye contact after a few minutes which wasn't really her cup of tea, but she couldn't help it; he made her nervous, the muscles in her abdomen were clenching in a most pleasant way as he stared at her. But, _my god, _this man was ... he was beautiful. He was pure male beauty, tall and muscular and magnetic.

He was probably five or six years older than her and stood proudly about 6'2 feet, if not taller - he was wearing a faded pair of jeans that was sitting more than just low waist on his narrow hips, only being held by a wide, black leather belt. A black sweater clung to his lean, muscular torso, also he was wearing a black leather jacket that emphasized his very broad shoulders. At the ends of his long, strong legs, Anastasia discovered Caterpillar Boots.

Her gaze wandered upwards. His face was angular and defined, with a chiseled jaw and a straight nose. His hair shone like pure gold, and she found herself wishing to touch it just once just to know if they were just as soft and silky as they looked like. His skin was sun-kissed, a golden tan that almost seemed to glow. She even recognized the rough shadows of a stubble on his cheeks that was giving him a murderous sex appeal. He wasn't just beautiful, he was sex on two legs. His beaty was lying in soft, golden tones of warmth that Anastasia wanted to wrap around her and snuggle in.

"What's your name?" Apollo rasped, looking at her with a crooked smile. The fucking hot on smile wasn't maybe the patronizing expression that came with it but the dimple that showed in his right cheek. She caught her breath, staring at him as though she were hypnotized. As he met her eyes again, a pleasant shiver ran down her back. His eyes were glowing gold, spraying yellow sparks that she captured effortlessly, answering with blue fire. These eyes weren't normal, they were too fascinating, they looked like little miniature suns. Anastasia blinked in horrow as she felt her underwear got wet; no, not her underwear, _her_. In shock, in a little embarrassment, she looked away.

"Anastasia. And yours?"

"Aaron." He never revealed his real name.

With raised eyebrows, she stared at him. "Nice to meet you, Aaron."

"The pleasure is all mine." He put the bottle to his lips and drank. As he met Anastasia's evasive glance, he held the bottle towards her again. This time, a mocking, but not malicious, smile graced around his full lips. "You honestly want nothing?"

"I ..." her voice broke, she sighed in despair and took the vodka. "Okay."

As their hands touched for a fraction of a second, a spark shot through them. Apollo moved jerkily his arm back, furrowing his brow in suspicion. It had felt as though Anastasia was charged with static energy, every little hair on his arms stood up. Her eyes were dilated, her lips slightly agape. Wide eyes and open mouth ... _shit. _Apollo cleared his throat of _that _particular idea. Fuck, he could see her more often in such a state if he wanted to. All he had to do was to seduce her.

She put the bottle to her lips and took a sip, the liquid burning like a bitch in her throat. A light cough shook her small body, and she looked with tears in her eyes at Apollo, though a soft smile graced her beautiful features.

Fuck, she was nothing less than exquisite. Her skin seemed soft as silk and begged for his tongue's appraisal. Her lips were plump and pink and would look amazing wrapped around his cock. Her thick lashes overshadowed her oceanic blue eyes seductively. Her breasts were perfect, just fucking perfect. Her hips curve luscious, and Apollo could imagine himself gripping them as he ground into her. She was small and petite, delicate, but she had her curves placed all in the right places.

"Are you drinking to suppress your problems?" she asked before even knowing what she had said. It was like a knee-jerk reaction, and as she realized her question, she widened her eyes in horror. That wasn't a concern of hers, and he did know it too, but instead he just shrugged and looked away. The desire to pull her into his lap, to touch her beautiful body was overpowering. To feel her beneath him, her femininity; moving, grinding, warm ..., soft ..., wet ... He didn't know what it was, but a certain sexual tension was lying in the air, he felt attracted to her like to no woman before. She oozed sexiness and grace like no other and probably wasn't even aware of it.

"Maybe," he replied darkly, demonstratively taking a gulp from the vodka.

She blinked. "Uh, okay, ... Aaron."

By a hair's breadth he almost groaned. Her voice was echoing in his mind, her smoky, slightly husky voice that wasn't too deep for a woman, but not so high that his ears hurt from it; how she sighed, moaned, _screamed _his real name. He was rock-hard by now, but he knew to hide it well from her eyes. As she turned towards him, her scent streamed under his nose. Warm and fresh like ... "_Peaches,_" Apollo whispered, barely audible. _Like peaches._

"What?" Anastasia asked in confusion.

_Peaches. Peaches. Peaches._

He tore himself from his thoughts and looked at her. "Nothing, it's just ..." He sighed in frustration. "D'you know the book _Tuesdays with Morrie_? There's one quote I particularly remember: people haven't found meaning in their lives, so they're running all the time looking for it. They think the next car, the next house, the next job. Then they find those things are empty, too, and they keep running."

"Once you start running it's hard to slow yourself down," she finished the quote, smiling at him with her eyes dancing over his handsome face. He returned her wry smile.

Anastasia looked at him in silence. They both had hardly noticed it, but as they had exchanged the first words with each other, they had moved closer together. Their shoulders were touching, she could smell his scent; and it was the perfect sin. He smelled like rain and forest, and mixed among it there was something else; something warm and comforting. "It's like you're screaming, but no one can hear you," she whispered into the silence.

"Exactly," Apollo nodded, offering her the vodka again. Anastasia took the bottle wordlessly and savored the burning in her throat, shaking slightly herself before giving the acohol back to Apollo. "I believe that we write our own stories, and each time we think we know the end - we don't. Perhaps happiness exists somewhere between the world of planning, the world of chances, and in peace that comes from knowing that you just can't know it all. Life's funny that way, Anastasia ... once you let go of the wheel, you might end up right where you belong."

"And actually you just want to forget your worries and have some peace," Anastasia said with a crooked smile, nodding towards the vodka bottle. "Seemingly, alcohol helps quite well."

He laughed softly. It sounded exciting. This sound, this guttural sound that rested in his throat and now made its way towards freedom brought her heart to racing. "Yeah, actually it does."

She joined into his laughing, tilting her head slightly to the side. What was it that she felt with him? She had never felt it before. She just felt ... she felt _understood_. Something wet and cold landed on her cheek, causing her to look up in surprise. It was snowing. Thousands of snowflakes were raging around while the wind was tugging at her jacket. It was getting colder.

Apollo followed her gaze, sighing softly as he realized something. "You're cold."

Anastasia stared at him without blinking. "Maybe."

"Want to come with me tonight?" He didn't know if he should regret his question. When he looked at her physical attributes, he knew that it would be fucking hard to keep his hands to himself. He knew that he wouldn't be able to control himself when he once had her in his apartment.

It didn't take her long to think about his question. She wanted him, that was for sure. Perhaps she would get him when they both were alone between four walls. _Just he and I. _"Yes."

Apollo stared at her in surprise. He never expected that she would actually agree. And certainly not so fast. A dark smile formed on his lips. It made a shiver ran down her spine; he looked at her with the expression of a hunter as though she were his prey. She liked it. It was awakening certain parts of her body from a deep sleep. As he got up and offered her his hand, she looked up at him with a crooked smile before putting her much smaller hand into his large one. Anastasia gasped softly as she once again felt the electric shock that shot through her hand, rooting itself deeply into her stomach. Apollo smiled as he noticed it and pulled her up from the bench.

* * *

It didn't take them long to his apartment. It was located near Central Park, and they spent the way wrapped almost only in silence. The snow crunched softly beneath their shoes with every step they did, the streetlamps that were lining the asphalt flickered fitfully every now and then.

Apollo couldn't take his gaze from Anastasia. He allowed his eyes to dance over her ass and legs. She had the tightest ass he had ever seen; pert and - ironically enough - peachy as hell. It begged for his hand across it. Her legs were slim and shapely and would look amazing wrapped either around his waist or neck. He liked the way she moved, the way her curvaceous hips swayed slightly with every one of her steps. Her gait was confident and graceful without any hesitation or stalling. He imagined how her plump, pink lips wrapped around his cock while he fisted roughly her long, dark curls. How he gripped her shapely hips as he took her from behind. How her pale, creamy skin was going to be marked from his touches. And he _was_ going to mark her. She wouldn't be able to erase his touches from her body.

She felt his gaze resting on her, and when she lifted her head, she met his eyes. He was looking at her hungrily, his eyes glowing down at her lustfully. It should scare her, and somehow it did, but Anastasia felt the musclues of her abdomen clenching in a delicious way. _This _scared her more. Never before had she felt so attracted to a man. She wanted to be devoured by him. She wanted him to bring her in completely different worlds. She wanted to feel the fire, the intensity and excitement that were flickering in his golden eyes. In uneasiness, Anastasia inconspicuously rubbed her thighs together as the bundle in her lap - this dirty slut - began to pulsate angry, demanding attention.

"You live nearby?" she whispered into the silence. Her breath formed a small gray cloud that dissipated immediately in the cold of the twenty-fourth of December.

He half smiled. "I live nearby."

She smiled softly to herself as she heard his reply that was perfectly suited to her question. Apollo stopped abruptly as they arrrived at his apartment. Anastasia also paused, putting her head back to stare at the skyscraper. So that was ... wow, apparently he was even rich. With wide, astonished eyes she looked at Apollo who gave her a sly wink, indicating her to follow him. Maybe it was a huge mistake of her to trust a complete stranger so easily, but ... she didn't care. He had caught her in her weakest, most fragile moment, and he had understood her. He felt the same way she did, and they both had found solace in each other.

Voluntarily, she let him lead her to the elevator and watched his long, sun-kissed fingers as they were pressing the buttons. The elevator began to move. They stood side by side, surrounded by sparking silence. As Anastasia looked up at him, she caught his eye. His golden eyes were glowing, he was slightly smiling. Anastasia did know that there was no turning back from what she wanted. From what was going to happen. She had had the opportunity to back down, but she hadn't taken that chance. And she couldn't say that she was regretting it.

The elevator came to a stop, the doors slid apart. Apollo took her hand, pulling her along behind him. She stared down at their entwined hands, shivering softly as she felt his warm, rough skin on hers. His hands had the perfect mix of roughness and silkiness that could drive a woman crazy. That wasn't normal. He was way too magnetic, too charismatic, the attraction she felt to him was beyond anything she had ever experienced. Anastasia followed him him through the long, dark corridor and paused as he stopped at a door and unlocked it.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he said, smiling.

Anastasia blinked in shock as she was greeted by the warm lights that were installed in the ceiling. This was a luxury apartment, a penthouse. From the panoramic window and the fireplace made of stainless steel, to the huge, white leather sofas. His home reflected its owner. It was warm, golden and glorious. She caught a glimpse of the branch that led to his bedroom, and it took her breath away as her eyes fell on the ceiling there that actually was just made of a huge window. "Humble?" she repeated incredulously.

Apollo grinned. "Make yourself comfortable."

He stripped off his leather jacket and threw it onto the sofa before going out of the living room. She took off her jacket and gloves, putting both carefully onto the sofa. Only then she realized that she was still freezing. Her legs took her to the fireplace where the fire was crackling and flickering, the flames painting dark shadow onto the dark hardwood floor. Anastasia frowned. _Why didn't he extinguish the fire before leaving his apartment? _But well, that was his matter. It's none of her business. She folded her arms across her chest, rubbing her palms over her upper arms to warm up a little. Although she was wearing a thick knit sweater, the cold was still forcing itself through the material as though it were thin silk.

"You're still cold," she heard the male, deep voice behind her.

With a crooked smile on her plump lips, she threw him a glance over her shoulder. Apollo leaned casually against the door frame, his hands buried deep inside the pockets of his jeans, but his eyes were showing his amusement.

"Sort of."

Anastasia's breath hitched as he came up behind her, turning her softly towards him. He took her hands between his ones, rubbing them gently, her scent flowing under his nose. _Peaches. _"Let me warm you up, Anastasia."

Her name felt light and sweet on his tongue, and he could imagine himself spending the whole, long day with repeating her name. It wouldn't get boring.

A shiver ran down her spine as she heard him saying her name. She liked this gentleness in his voice as though he was virtually caressing the letters with his tongue. A warm feeling crept up her neck. _No, Ana, don't think about his tongue and caresses in one context. _

Of their own accord, his eyes skirted over the delicious curve of her shapely hips, over her tiny waist, and finally stopping at her shapely breasts that were shown off nicely by her tight sweater. 34B, he would bet on it. Her hands were small and delicate, her skin felt soft and smooth beneath his fingers. She had fine hands with short fingernails that were well looked after and clean.

"I'm ..." Anastasia began, her voice broke, and she had to look down briefly at their intertwined hands before pulling herself together. "I've been thinking about the things that I thought about quite a lot lately. Things that hurt me, things I want. And then I had this terrible thought. Are these feelings even real? Or are they just programming? That idea really hurts. And ... and I get angry with myself for even feeling pain." She took a deep breath to collect herself. "I'm sorry, that's ... that's ridiculous, I know."

Slowly shaking his head, Apollo pushed the pent-up air out of his lungs. "Feelings are real. They aren't rational, and that's what makes them real. They can't be programming. You can't explaim them, feelings like hatred, jealousy, happiness, and many others ..."

Anastasia lifted her head, looking into his golden eyes that had darkened and now sparkled in an amber shade. She knew that they were too close to each other, she knew that she should step away from him, but she didn't _want _it. She exhaled shakily as she felt his hot breath on her cheek. "Feelings like hatred, jealousy, happiness, and many others," she repeated softly, the words coming in a whisper from her lips. She lowered her eyelids, her lashes painting dark shadows on her high, prominent cheekbones. The ocean was raging in her eyes, the waves beating against the edges of her irises, wanting to break out.

His palms gently moved down her sides, coming to a stop at her hips. Apollo inhaled deeply her irresistible smell, groaning softly and pained. _Peaches, you're killing me entirely. _"And many others," he whispered into her ear.

"Such as?" she asked mildly, tilting slightly her head to the side. The little alcohol that she had in her system made her bold, and on top of that, there was her unbridled desire simply to _feel_. She wanted to be aware of the fact that she was still alive, she wanted to feel the fire, the heat and passion. She wanted to feel Apollo, to be held by him, while he would fill her with slow, patient strokes. She just wanted to forget everything she worried about.

As Apollo heard her words, he directed his gaze to her face. A sexy smirk curled on his full lips, his fingers dipping beneath the edge of her sweater, panting invisible patterns on her soft, warm skin. "Desire," he whispered huskily, his voice thick with pent-up lust. "Desire makes you unpredictable, it makes you lose your control. In the name of desire you do all the things you would normally never do."

Anastasia's heart skipped a beat before it started pounding at double speed. "Oh is that so?" she breathed sluggishly.

She was just so fucking beautiful. Apollo saw her delicate collarbones that disappeared under her sweater, her pale, slender neck, her pink pump lips that were slightly parted and glistening wet, her almond-shaped, oceanic blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes. And all this was perfected by her lush, lustrous hair that shone like pure darkness with some wavy strands falling into her face. She felt so perfect against him, so small, so soft and delicate.

And he was trying to control himself.

"Fuck it," he swore hastily.

Her eyes closed automatically as his lips touched hers. _Oh. My. God. _Anastasia remained frozen as their mouths connected. She could feel his palm on her cheek and his nose against hers. Could feel his breath that was coming long and steady as though he was in a trance.

Apollo couldn't believe how soft she felt. Her mouth was fucking perfect and tasted even better. More like whipped cream than peaches. He smiled unconsciously. _What a perfect combination. _After a moment, he opened his mouth to see how she would react. Fuck, he wanted her. She wanted him. Oh so slightly, but he could her feel breath push into him as she slightly opened her mouth. Their lips moved together, so slowly, gently, and tentatively. It wasn't the way Apollo used to kiss. He used to kiss roughly and wildly, but this kiss was filled with comfort, warmth and understanding. He wanted more of it.

He cupped her face with his other hand and pressed his lips harder to hers, hissing slightly as his cock found her soft stomach through his jeans. His mouth opened wider, and he groaned. He'd been not so fucking hard for a very long time. _My God, _it almost hurt. He wanted to feel more of her. He wanted her to touch him.

Anastasia sighed softly as his tongue entered her mouth, challenging hers for a sweet fight.

_His taste._

His dark, rich taste of cigarette smoke and blueberries. It was _sublime. _It was as though she had been searching for it her entire life, and now that she had found it she didn't want to let it go. Her nipples hardened against the fabric of her bra, and her clit throbbed and demanded attention.

"_Peaches,_" he moaned, kissing her harder and pushing his tongue further into her mouth. _Jesus, she _does _taste like peaches. _More. _More._

Apollo's fingers dipped under her sweater again, this time going further and stroking her wet skin - shit, it felt so fucking erotic -, the kiss deepened with a loud moan of them both. He swallowed each and every one of her breaths that she was giving him, and pulled her closer against his body, wanting her to feel how hard he was and how much he wanted to be inside of her. _Needed _to be inside of her. He felt her hands sliding down and pulling questioningly at the hem of his sweater. Apollo stepped back a little so she could pull it over his head what she did, then throwing his sweater to the side. She swallowed as she stared at his naked torso. Just smooth, sun-kissed skin over hard muscle, defined pecks, ripped abs, and distinct V-trail. His arms were muscular with well-formed biceps, tendons that were lying under his skin and slightly standing out. He had the body of a god.

"What do they mean?" she asked softly, trailing his tattoos with her fingertips.

He followed her eyes to the lettering that was seen on his right side. "_Fight to survive,_" he murmured faintly, taking her hand in his. "It ought remind me always to fight, never to stay on the ground; no matter what happens or how hopeless the situation seems. The feather next to it symbolizes my love for freedom." He pointed to the anchor that was tattooed on his chest. "The anchor is to remember me always to stay down on earth, but its meaning also is the loyalty and my friends. And the lion's head on my right shoulder symbolizes my family; my parents, my uncles and aunts, and my siblings."

"And the musical notes?" She pointed to the two tattoos on his hip bones.

"Are signifying my love for music," Apollo said and chuckled softly to himself as he met her fascinated gaze that had landed on his forearms. "The arrow that's on my right forearm always ought show me the right path while the initials _P.A. _on my left forearm are representing my name."

In fascination, Anastasia trailed his tattoos with her long, slim fingers, smiling as she noticed his hard muscles tensing and relaxing over and over again beneath her digits. Before she knew it he had pulled her back to his body, smashing his lips violently on hers. His tongue forced itself into her mouth, melting with hers. She moaned loudly and wove her hands into his golden hair, tugging and scratching with her short fingernails over his scalp, because fuck yes, his sexy hair was just as soft and silky as it looked like. _Yes. _Apollo tugged at the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head.

Her pale blue bra was next to go. _More._

Anastasia tucked her hands behind her back as Apollo's teeth slid across her collarbone, and unhooked it, pulling it from her body, and throwing onto the floor with their sweaters.

"Fuck," Apollo groaned as he stared at her perfect breasts. They were perky, round and firm. 34B, just as he had guessed it. Her small nipples were pink and erect, and reacted instantly as his thumbs caressed them.

"Oh God," she murmured as he did it again. Her head rolled back, elegant and beautiful, her dark hair falling down her back in waves like an inky black waterfall. She had never expected for it to feel so good. His hands left her breathless and wanton, he touched something deep inside of her she hadn't known that it existed. The fire was the only light in the room, and his skin was glowing soft and golden. She wanted it never to stop. She wanted to see him glow.

"You like that?" Apollo asked gently and kissed her slightly parted lips. Anastasia nodded, gripping his shoulders. Her nails dug into his skin, causing him to moan deeply in pleasure. His large hands gripped roughly her perky breasts, kneading the soft skin, her stiff nipples puckered in his palms. "_Christ, _I want you, Anastasia."

"Yes," she gasped breathlessly. "Please. I want you so much. Aaron. _Please._"

He stopped her words with his mouth, kissing her gently and tenderly. As he pulled away from her, he pushed her hair from her face with a smile as it dripped down her petite nose. "Just enjoy it."

Apollo cupped her face with both hands, softly stroking his thumbs over her smooth cheeks, and kissed her again. It wasn't vulgar or dirty but sweet and passionate. Her hands rested on his strong upper arms, she was clinging to him as she let him lead. He tried to rein his desire in, fuck, he tried so damn hard, but the fire between them began to strenghten, their passion for each other igniting into flames, and their tongues were soon tangled from one mouth to the other.

Flicking. Licking. Tasting.

With an animalistic growl that sounded like her name, Apollo bent down, gripping her thighs, and picked her up. He smiled against her lips as she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

He gripped her ass and groaned as her chest slid against his as he moved to his bedroom. Without any stumbling, Apollo carried her to his king size bed, and kneeled gently, lying her down and spreading his weight protectively across her. She gasped as she looked straight out of the window that served as the ceiling. It was pitch dark, the stars twinkling in the night sky, the full moon the only light source, bathing the room in a soft, silvery light.

Their mouths seemed incapable of disconnecting. His palms slid over her skin, over her sides, up to her breasts and her neck and down to her flat, smooth stomach while they gasped and moaned between fused lips. They were all that mattered, only them, two people who were desperate for solace and understanding and wanted to give it each other. They were together in this moment and away from all, away from everything that threatened to shatter them. There were no complications, no reason to hide or pretend something. She let down her walls, opening to him like to no man before while he surrendered himself to her, he was at her mercy.

"Fuck, _Anastasia._"

Their eyes met. The raging ocean was captured by liquid gold, liquid gold sank into the raging ocean. Their noses touched slightly, they felt the hot breath of the other on their face. Anastasia swallowed, looking into his eyes. Her desire and devotion couldn't suppress her nervousness, she had no idea what she was doing here and what she had to expect. But she knew that she didn't want it to stop. Her breath hitched, whispering across his lips. "I want you," she whispered softly, feeling his chest raise and lower against her own as he breathed. "_Everywhere._"

A small smile formed on his lips, the dimple appearing in his right cheek. "Your wish is my command, _Peaches,_" he whispered against her lips, leaving a soft kiss on her mouth before letting his kisses wander down her sublime body. He trailed her jawline with his tongue and sucked on her creamy, soft skin. She tasted so delicious. Her soft sighs and wanton moans showed him how much she enjoyed his caresses, how much she wanted him. He was going to give her everything, he was going to show her the heavens.

Anastasia put her head to the side, giving him better access to her neck. Frantic, heavy pants stumbled from her slightly reddened, swollen lips as he littered her neck with bites and kisses. She wanted to touch him, she wanted it so much, but he held her wrists pinned beside her head. _Fuck. _She pushed her hips against his, drawing a throaty, deep moan from him. _Oh. My. God. _Anastasia felt his cock against her thigh; long, thick, fucking hard. With hazy eyes she stared out of the window above her and gasped softly as she saw the faint reflection of them both. She watched the tensing and relaxing of his muscles on his back, the huge tattoo that was seen between his shoulder blades. She couldn't tell what the motive was, but she didn't exactly care about it at this moment. The sight of them both was so erotic and sensual; her hair was lying around her head like a dark, luminous halo.

Apollo did briefly let go of her wrists what she instantly used to dig her nails into his back. His palms slid gently over her milky-white skin, over her ribs and her tiny waist up to her neck. He knelt between her legs, watching her with lustful eyes. My god, she was stunning. Feminine. Sexy. Gorgeous. Her skin was pale and creamy and just as soft as it felt beneath his palms. His eyes wandered over her long, slender neck to her delicate collarbones that he was insist to nibble and lick at. Her stomach was flat and smooth, and there was something about her sexy belly button that fascinated him immensely.

_Peaches._

"Please," she whispered softly and shakily into the silence of the room.

And then his mouth was on her skin. He covered her neck and shoulders with tender bites down to the soft mounds of her breasts, nipping at her collarbone and eliciting throaty, wanton sounds from her. She was so delicate, so exquisite. She was the innocent girl, and he was the big bad wolf, and he wanted nothing more than devour her completely. With glowing eyes he looked up at her, straight into her darkened, oceanic blue eyes. Without breaking the eye contact, he lowered his head and circled her right nipple with his tongue before closing his mouth around it and sucking hungrily at the pink bud. She moaned loudly, calling out his name, and wove firmly her hands into his hair. He held her hips down with his hands and heard her desperate, dry sob.

"More," she whimpered into his hair. "Please, Aaron. _More._"

She had the feeling that she was burning. She was hot, so hot, she was trembling, _everything _was trembling. His touches let her body burst into flames, and he was blessed to be able to see how her body awoke in her sexuality. With a satisfied smile on his lips, he massaged her other breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and index finger, not wanting to neglect anything of her. His eyes never left her. His hands found their path to her jeans, but before he could unbotton it he stopped in worry. He wanted to make sure that Anastasia was fine, that this was something she truly wanted. _Tell me that you want it, _he pleaded silently. _Tell me you want this as much as I do._

Anastasia looked at him, gently stroking his hair, and nodded slightly. "I want you so much. Don't stop."

He gripped her delicious ass, causing her to lift her hips so that he could pull her jeans down, gently letting his knuckles glide over her thighs and calves as he did. Apollo had to laugh softly as he noticed that she was still wearing her boots.

"Sorry," she giggled sexily, watching him as he began to untie them.

"No problem," Apollo replied, kissing her ankles as he removed her boots and socks. Finally free of any obstacles, Apollo yanked her jeans down and threw them carelessly through the bedroom. He knelt between her legs, running his palms over the most delicious looking thighs he had ever seen, taking her sight in. She was wearing small white cotton panties that hugged her curvaceous hips like a second skin, and, he could just make out, around the edges of the elastic, that she was bare. _Praise fucking Jesus. _He could feel the heat and wetness that was seeping through the thin fabric.

His cock twitched and throbbed, liquid seeping on its tip, causing him to moan low in his throat. Fuck's sake, he hadn't even touched her thereyet and he was about ready to explode.

"Aaron," Anastasia whispered anxiously, leaning down on her elbows. "If you don't want it ... I understand ... I mean -"

He swallowed her words with a mouth and a tongue that wanted to taste every inch of her. "I want it," he groaned into her mouth. "I _really_ fucking want." His hand slid down her small waist, to her hip, and played with the side of her panties. "Can I touch you, Anastasia?"

She shivered, his words left a burning sensation deep inside of her that anchored in her abdomen. "God, yes. I want nothing more than your hands on me."

"Christ," Apollo groaned as he heard her answer. He slipped his hand into her panties and slid his knuckles over the bare lips of her pussy. _So wet. _So wet and ready for him. Panting heavily, he let his head fall against her shoulder, covering her neck with soft kisses, causing chills to run down her back as his hot breath hit the wet places his kisses had left. His fingers circled teasingly around her entrance, luring out more wetness. "You're so wet."

"For you," she whispered into his hair, exhaling shakily; the situation was just too much for her. His fingers spread her lips, his thumb touched her clit, and they both groaned at the first contact. _Fuck, so swollen. _Apollo pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched how she began to grind against his hand. She looked so fucking _hot. Oh god, Peaches. _Warm. Wet. Tight. Her back arched, her lips curling into a silent scream as he lightly dipped the tip of his middle finger inside of her. She pushed her hips against his hand, but he simply shook his hand, smiling slightly, and withdrew.

Anastasia gasped. "Please. _Please._"

"Relax," Apollo muttered softly, placing a chaste kiss on her open mouth. "Just enjoy it."

He hooked his fingers in the hem of her panties and slowly pulled the thin fabric down her shapely, pale legs. His hands slid over her silky, smooth skin, he threw her panties to the other clothes and spread her legs slightly. As though they were glued, his eyes rested on the pink flesh that was, due to her wetness, slightly glistening in the moon light. His cock twitched in anticipation, and he couldn't help but memorize her sight permanently. Her soft, pale thighs were full and sexy. Her lips were bulging and wet and glistening, her clit swollen and red. He slid his finger through her lips, catching the wetness on his index finger. The skin on his fingertips was glistening as he held up his hand. Apollo had to admit that it was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. That was until Anastasia took his hand and led his fingers to her mouth, her lips closing around the fuckers and sensually sucking on them. Her eyes were anchored to his.

"Fuck," he growled as her tongue swirled around each and one of his fingers, licking her own juices off them. "Fuck ... _Anastasia._"

With the hint of a smile, she freed his fingers, cupped his face with her small hands and kissed him soulfully and passionately. Apollo groaned into her mouth. _Holy Mother. _He could taste her own cum on her tongue. He supported himself with his hands on either side of her head and slowly pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers. She smiled as she saw the look of pure bliss on his face.

"I want _you _to feel good," she whispered softly, letting her hands wander over his muscular torso until she stopped at his belt. Not once they broke the eye contact as Anastasia undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. Her small hand cupped his cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs and rubbed it slowly, sighing and purring as she felt how fucking hard he was. How fucking hard he was for her. A sense of female pride raced through her as she realized that she was making him feel this way. "You're so hard," she breathed into his ear.

"For you," he whispered huskily and thrusted against her hand, rubbing impatiently his hips on hers. He slipped off his shoes and socks, helped her yank down his jeans and threw them carelessly aside before kneeling between her thighs, taking off his boxer briefs.

Anastasia swallowed hard as she saw his entire cock; long, thick, so fucking hard. His entire length was graced by two veins, and if she had to guess she would say that he was at least 10 inches long. And thick, fuck, he was so thick. He could be one of the Greek gods. Would that even fit in her at all? She looked up at him hesitantly. "Can ... can I?"

He smiled and nodded. "Fuck, yes. Why are you even asking?"

Her fingers closed around his cock. She swallowed again as she realized that she couldn't completely wrap her hand around him, because he was so very huge. The meat felt hard and unyielding, but at the same time it was soft and velvety. Anastasia ran her index finger along his tip, catching the pre-cum on her fingertip and drawing an entirely new reaction from Apollo. His eyes rolled back, he pushed hard into her hand. "Baby, if you don't stop this shit I'll fucking cum."

Smiling, Anastasia lifted her hand to her mouth, licking his pre-cum off her index finger. Apollo inhaled deeply as he watched her with dark eyes. The expression on her face was setting every part of his body on fire. She looked fucking hungry. Like, animal hunger. Like she wanted to devour him. "And that would be ... bad?"

"I'd much rather be inside of you when that shit happens," he whispered with a sexy smirk on his lips.

"God, yes," she breathed, watching as he bent down to get a condom out of his jeans pocket. Fuck, every other time he didn't actually care if he was using protection or not. He couldn't catch a venereal disease due to the ichor in his veins, and another demi-god of his wouldn't also make a difference, but with Anastasia ... she didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve to be impregnated by him with a demi-god, to carry that burden on her shoulders and then not to be able to enjoy her life. He hastily tore open the packet and rolled the condom over his cock before positioning himself at her entrance. His tip brushed her lips, causing him to move impatiently his hips. For fuck's sake, her heat was extraordinary.

"Oh," she whimpered into his shoulder, resting her heels on his lower back. "I want to feel every inch of you."

"You ready for me, Anastasia?" he asked. His breath hitched as she nodded with closed eyes. Panting heavily and keeping his eyes on her, he watched as she wrapped her hand around his cock and and slowly guided him towards her heat. As she released him with a slight smile on her lips, Apollo pushed foward, his tip slipping into her. _Oh. Peaches. _They both groaned at the sensation, and Anastasia's hips moved jerkily. He pushed a little more and stopped as he felt a sudden resistance.

_What. The. Fuck?_

Her arms wrapped around him as he tried to withdraw out of her. Her eyes looked pleadingly up at him. "Please, don't stop. _Please._"

"You're a virgin," he said soberly. Damn it, why hadn't she told him that before? Apollo stared wordlessly at her beautiful face, her oceanic blue eyes pleading him to continue. Perhaps it was odd for a eighteen-year old to be a virgin nowadays, but with the life that she was carrying she hadn't really found time to get herself into a serious relationship. Although she had already dated some guys, it had never held for longer than a month. Between battles, missions and monsters it wasn't easy to find the right man.

Apollo sighed. He had broken hymens before, and it hadn't been a pleasant experience for the women. A lot of that shit had been his fault. He exhaled in frustration. "It's going to hurt like a bitch, but I'll make it as easy as I'm able to, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, her voice trembling with nervousness. He took a deep breath, pushing further into her, and broke through her hymen. Anastasia screamed quietly, her body becoming rigid in his arms. A sharp pain raced through her femininity, the area beginning to throb slightly. Apollo breathed gentle kisses on her neck, and this was a great distraction; he inconspiciously allowed his healing magic to flow into her, and Anastasia noticed that the pain subsided. The throbbing waned.

"Move in me."

Apollo followed her command, withdrawing before pushing himself into her with a slow, strong stroke. He gave her time so she could get used to his length. The more he moved, the more intensive the feelings were becoming. At first, it was a little unpleasant, but as the pain vanished completely Anastasia felt her lust growing immensely. He opened her legs wider, pushing into her again, hearing her acknowledge it with a loud moan.

It was incredible.

She felt him stretching her as he filled her perfectly; she felt the veins of his cock throbbing against the walls of her pussy. What she felt at this moment was beyond anything she had ever experienced. She had never expected it to feel so good. He pulled back again, feeling her pussy grip and caress the entire length of him. It was fucking _sublime._

"Oh, _yeah,_" he rasped against her collarbone. Her face was spectacular as he thrust himself deeply into her. Her dark eyebrows furrowed above her lustful eyes, her lips pursed and slightly glistening. Apollo could see a small sprinkling of sweat on her cheeks that almost sparkled when the light from the moon hit her. "Feel good?" he panted as he pushed into her again.

Anastasia threw her head back, a single drop of sweat running down her neck that he quickly licked up. "God, you ... you fill me so fucking completely."

And that he did. His cock penetrated her deeply, so deeply as he had never experienced it before. She was so tight and so wet, enveloping his entire length like a velvety cloth. He spoiled himself with her heat, opening her legs wider and filling her with a hard, deep thrust. Anastasia cried out softly, her hands reaching back to the headboard of the bed and holding firmly on to it. Apollo straightened a bit so he was kneeling between her thighs that were wrapped around his waist.

Her dirty little words were making him swell even more inside of her, and he looked down to see how he disappeared into her, how he moved inside her incredible heat. He groaned at the erotic sight. He pushed back into her again, hissing as he slipped deeper in her pussy.

"Fuck, that's deep," Apollo groaned, beginning to move inside her. The angle must be a fucking good one, because the moan that left her was stunning and animalistic. The feel of her around him, her sounds and smells were too much. He started to lose himself and he didn't know whether to feel elated or scared to death. He wanted more. _More. Peaches._

"Oh, yes," she gasped, digging her fingernails into his strong upper arms, "Right there."

"There?" he panted, his breathing coming heavily, "You want it right there, _Anastasia?_"

"Yes. _Please. _Don't stop."

This was sex on a whole different level. It was erotic, sensual, wet, primal and hot; the sound of naked skin that slapped at each other was filling the room mixed with the panting and moaning of them both, the smell of sweat and sex hanging in the air.

Anastasia could feel him in her soul, deep in her bones. He consumed her thoroughly, taking each and every one cell of her body. Her stiff nipples rubbed against his chest as he continued to withdraw and move into her, he was igniting her body. Every inch of her body was kindled, her soul felt as though it was burning. This lust was beyond anything she had imagined so far, and she felt the tension growing more and more inside of her.

"You like that?" Apollo rasped and pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, sucking hungrily on the pink flesh, "You like the feel of me filling you?"

"Oh God, yes. Can you go faster?"

Apollo could feel his body getting hotter from the inside. Every muscle was strained, a single drop of sweat ran down his forehead towards his eyebrow. Her sounds, her moaning, were going straight into his cock, causing it to pulsate and swell even more inside of her. An animalistic growl left his throat, he straightened up more, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, and ramming deeply into her. Anastasia screamed, arching her back and throwing back her head, her hands clinging to the headboard of the bed.

"You're so fucking tight," he growled and thrusted into her; deep and hard. His pelvis slammed against hers, he leaned down to capture her lips in a hungry kiss, teeth and tongues everywhere at once. He rammed into her, deep, strong thrusts that made her scream.

And then he felt it. Deep in his stomach as his balls tightened, and his thighs took on a life of their own. He was going to cum. _Fuck. _He was going to cum so hard. But not before she hadn't reached her orgasm.

Her body suddenly changed. _Fuck. _She became almost rigid in his arms, and her pussy squeezed every inch of his dick like a vice.

"Oh God," she gasped, looking at Apollo in total surprise, "Oh God. Don't stop. It's ... it's right there. Oh. _Oh._"

_That's it, Baby._

"_Peaches, _please," he groaned and bit into her shoulder. He gritted his teeth, not wanting to miss a second of it when she was going to cum all over him.

"So close," she moaned, "Oh, so fucking close."

"Fuck, Baby, what can I do?" Apollo demanded as his thrusts became irregular and wild, "Goddamn it, _Anastasia, _tell me."

Anastasia lifted her head. Her eyes were dark, wild, animalistic, and full of passion, "Kiss me."

And Apollo did. He smashed his lips violently on hers, pushing his tongue into her mouth and kissing her with everything he had to offer. And he felt her reaction instantly. Her arms stiffened around his neck, her legs trembling and wrapping around his waist so hard that it almost hurt.

"Yes, yes. That's it, _Peaches._"

"I'm ... fuck ... oh, oh," Anastasia panted, her head falling back, and Apollo watched her with fascinated eyes as she took a huge breath and cried out at the top of her lungs as her orgasm smashed into her. Everything seemed suddenly to boil over, the sensations were too much, the pure raw passion was burning like an raging inferno between them. She arched her back, digging her nails into his muscular back, leaving bright red welts on it. He rammed his hips against hers, causing a shot of pain to race through her that let explode another orgasm in her body. The waves crashed violently through her body, she was twitching; mumbling unintelligible words into his neck.

_Lights. Black. Pulsing. Wet. Release. Hard._

At the sound of her scream, Apollo's spine snapped, his throat opened, and, with a defeaning roar, his cock exploded inside of her with such force that he almost lost his balance. His orgasm kept going and going, streams of pleasure shot powerfully from his cock as he continued to grind into her fucking exquisite pussy. Waves of euphoric release crashed over him, leaving him breathless and groaning.

Anastasia sighed contentedly and buried her face into his sweat covered neck and shoulder.

"Fuck ... _fuck _... oh, Anastasia."

He buried his face into her damp hair, inhaling deeply her smell. _Peaches, you're killing me entirely. _For a while, Apollo stayed on top of her, looking at her in silence. She looked so stunning in her post-coital glow. Sex flowed from each of her pores. He saw a little smile on her swollen, red lips, the look of pure bliss was gracing her gorgeos features, and he could feel her breathing and heartbeating calming down slowly. His cock that was getting softer still rested deep inside of her. There was something about her that fascinated him immensely. She was dark, sexy, and mysterious. And he really hadn't seen such a sexual fire in no women he had ever met as in Anastasia.

_Peaches. _She would go down in history as his _Peaches. _As the dark-haired, mysterious beauty who had seduced him with mere words and glances.

Slowly, Anastasia opened her eyes again and stared into his golden ones without a hint of embarrassment. The emotions that went through her oceanic blue eyes with this icy shimmer were amazing. She was so obvious, the emotions in her eyes as clear as the light of the day, but at the same time she was a closed book for him. He didn't know her. And he would probably never see her again after this night.

"That was ..." she began softly, but didn't seem to find the words that were able to describe her feelings approximately.

"It was," he completed her sentence, staring deeply into her mesmerizing eyes that met his and captured him once again. Gently, he pulled out of her, they both groaning in disappointment at the loss of their connection. He quickly rolled the condom off his softened cock and put it on the bedside table.

He couldn't have put his words better. They couldn't explain what had happened. It had been as it had been. Fate had intervened, and against this force they both were powerless.

"Will you stay with me?"

"Yes."

Satisfied, Anastasia laid back and pulled up the covers to her chest. She turned onto the side so she could stare into his eyes, folding her hands beneath her cheek and looking at him with such intensity that it almost scared the shit out of him.

"Thank you," she breathed softly. Her eyes were filled with so much emotion that a lone tear slipped down her temple.

"What for?"

"For letting me feel again."


End file.
